A Crumbling Republic
by Buckhunter The Race Horse
Summary: The Republic is running out of clones to send out. They're forced to chose four of the best cadets and send them out as a squad. But these aren't just any clone cadets- they're specially trained ones. They're another group of commandos, known as Bravo Squad. Will these young soldiers prove to have learned enough when the time to go on their first mission arrives, or will they fall?
1. The Bravo Brothers

**A/N: Made versions of Bravo Squad's armor in Minecraft for and uploaded them to my Planet Minecraft account under the username of Starryspectrum. **

**Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the clones of Bravo Squad.**

**OptimusPrime2017 presents to you,**

**A Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fanfiction:**

**A Crumbling Republic**

_**Bravo Squad:**_

_RC-1109 "Mars"_

_RC-1127 Sunny_

_RC-1176 "Slate"_

_RC-1183 "Jem"_

**Chapter One:**

"Psst." A voice came on RC-1109's left. "Psst. Hey, you."

He turned to look at a boy identical to himself, who sat at a similar station at his left; just another clone in training, just like he was. The young clone gave a small, friendly grin to Oh-Nine. The latter chose not to react, knowing that they shouldn't be interacting. If the advisor were to notice the disturbance…

"Pssssst!" The other cadet hissed. His grin was so bright and joyful that it drove Oh-Nine crazy. "Hey, you can talk, right?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to work." RC-1109 finally responded, turning back to his screen.

"Aw, lighten up there, brother." He tried again. "What's your number?"

"Easy for you to say, _Sunny_." His irritation grew.

"What'd you just call me?" The cheery boy seemed perplexed.

"Ar-See One-One-Oh-Nine, Ar-See One-One-Two-Seven, that's enough." The voice of a fully grown clone rang out; the advisor.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Oh-Nine replied to the advisor immediately, glancing up.

"Advisor, sir?" Two-Seven spoke up. "Why aren't we allowed to, you know, talk to each other?"

Oh-Nine knew that the other cadet shouldn't have said it almost right away. The advisor's frown grew and both of the other two cadets in the room looked up for the first time. One seemed just as curious and the other had a that-was-a-_brilliant_-idea look.

"You four will have your time to talk to each other eventually, but now is not the time, Two-Seven. _Now _you'll focus on the task at hand. Is that clear, cadets?" The advisor reminded them sternly.

"Yes, sir!" All four of the young cadets responded sharply.

"Very well then, boys. You know what to do." The instructor nodded for them to continue their work.

RC-1109 turned back to the screen before him, eyes narrowing at the screen as he concentrated on slicing the database's systems. Within a few moments, he'd done it. He sat back, crossing his arms, with a triumphant smirk on his face. _When can we get into something actually challenging? This shoulder be for the regs._

He glanced around, seeing the others still deeply concentrated. After another minute, an audible "Yes!" could be heard from one of the cadets. He glanced over to the boy, seeing his number imprinted into his daily wear. RC-1176. Seven-Six looked up from his complete, successful session and met with Oh-Nine's gaze. He gave a friendly nod after a how-long-have-you-been-done? comical look. He smirked back at the other boy, as if to say "Longer than you".

Sunny finished a couple of minutes later. There were a few frustrated growls from the final cadet, one labeled as RC-1183. After another ten or so minutes, the boy relaxed and settled back, crossing his arms in a pout of being the last of the group to complete the slicing.

Then the door slid open. All four boys turned curiously, before their eyes lit up in wonder. Two-Seven looked like he was about to jump up and down in excitement. It was a Jedi! They'd never seen one before. This particular Jedi Master had a red face with white in the center. She had long Lekku that extended from around her head, wrapped around it, and reached down to about her waist. Oh-Nine immediately knew that she was a Togruta.

"Are these the to-be commandos?" The Togruta Jedi Master asked the advisor.

"Yes, General Ti." The instructor nodded. "Care for me to introduce them to you?"

"Please." She nodded politely, turning towards the small group of cadets.

"This is Ar-See-One-One-Eight-Three, Ar-See-One-One-Seven-Six, Ar-See-One-One-Oh-Nine, and Ar-See-One-One-Two-Seven." The older clone went down the line, the Jedi's gaze following along. When Oh-Nine's number was called, he met the Togruta's gaze strongly with his own. She locked with his eyes for a brief moment, but he noticed. Then she glanced to Sunny and then back to the advisor.

"I came here to speak to you about their training." General Ti told him. "May we talk outside for just a moment?"

The tension in the air around the cadets rose. Eight-Three and Seven-Six shifted nervously, Two-Seven excitedly. Oh-Nine didn't move at all.

"Yes, general, of course." The clone nodded, gesturing outside.

He led her outside. The cadets saw him touch the pad to close the door afterwards, as to ensure that the young troops wouldn't overhear anything. RC-1109 jumped up from his seat immediately, having spotted an air vent to the hall. He crouched down next to it, pressing his ear to the cool metal.

"Oh-Nine, what are you doing?" Seven-Six demanded, knowing that the latter shouldn't be doing what he was.

Not wanting to risk getting found out by the advisor or the Jedi, he didn't verbally answer. Instead, he held a finger to his lips. The room fell silent again, and he could hear talking outside. He concentrated deeply, narrowing his eyes, as he listened and began to pick up the words.

"The Republic is beginning to run low on men." General Ti was saying. "We need more ready fast, but we don't have any far enough into training to start sending out. Some units are being split into several groups to do this. Captain Rex and the 501st are covering at least three or four different missions at this time. And Delta Squad is also busy too."

"What are you implying, General?" The instructor asked.

"What I am asking of you, trooper, is: how fast can you train these commandos?" She asked in turn. "Can you mash five years of training into one and a half years?"

Oh-Nine's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. _No way!_

"Y-yes, ma'am." The advisor responded, caught off-guard too. "But they are too young!"

"Their age won't matter if they are trained well enough." The General assured him.

"That's not quite what I mean, General." The clone explained. "How can you send someone who's not fully grown- a child!- out there?! It's hard for the fully grown soldiers like us. These boys won't want to go back out there after their first mission!"

"There's nothing we can do about that." The Jedi Master told him, a slightly saddened tone to her voice. Then her voice got stronger. "But we need more soldiers, and we can't get another large group out there. If these commandos are trained well enough, they should be able to do what the whole of Captain Rex's unit can do, lower numbers or not. Do you understand?"

"Yes, General." The advisor replied reluctantly. Then he asked,"When do you want me to take them to Walon Vau?"

RC-1109 gasped, freezing as soon as he did because the conversation in the hallway came to a halt. Walon Vau was only the harshest of all clone trainers, from what he has heard. Only the unluckiest and the most unfortunate of soldiers were put under his command. Any cadet who survived training with him came back out as a hardened soldier. Just hearing his name sent shivers up the cadet's spine. But hearing that he was going to train under the man's command?

Driven by fear and disbelief, the cadet noisily scrambled back from the vent. The other three cadets glanced at him worriedly and came to his side. They attempted to ask him what was wrong, but the only thing he could do was manage to growl at them to leave him be.

"Oh-Nine!" The advisor accused, as the door slid open. The cadet didn't move, not tearing his gaze from the floor. "Look at me, cadet! Look at me!"

Oh-Nine took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and looked up into the angered eyes of his superior officer. His voice was shaky. "S-sir?"

"What exactly did you overhear?" The older clone demanded.

The cadet swallowed nervously and answered quietly, timidly even. "Everything, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I should have stayed at my work station."

The instructor sighed. "Yes, you should have, Oh-Nine. You weren't supposed to hear any of that."

"I know, sir." RC-1109 repeated, more steadily. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"I should hope not." The soldier told him, turning to glance at the amused Jedi Master behind him. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What's so interesting, General?"

"This cadet." Ti answered, a small smile on her lips. "He is more intelligent and creative than most I have seen. Advisor, you have a spy among your commandos."

"I...don't quite see how that's a good thing."

"Trust me, Advisor, this cadet's thoughtfulness will serve him and the others well. You got a good batch this time."

Oh-Nine gave a timid smile. "Thank you, General."

"Squad, fall in!" The advisor commanded.

The cadet scrambled to his feet and took his place as squad leader. Sunny took position on his left, then Seven-Six, and finally Eight-Three. Their faces portrayed no emotion as they stood at attention, heads held high.

"As your squad leader here overheard, your real training will begin today." General Ti began. "The five years' worth of training that you should have had will be instead mashed together into one and a half years, as the Republic needs more soldiers out there quickly. Your training with Walon Vau will begin in a few minutes." She paused while the three cadets to Oh-Nine's left gasped and struggled to pull themselves back together. "You _will _do as he commands and you _will _complete your training. If you learn enough from your training, you should be able to do as much as, or even more than, the amount of work of a normal, regular sized battalion. Is this clear?"

"Yes, General!" The squad of cadets chorused.

"Very well then." She nodded approvingly. "You will be known as the Bravo Squad."

_Bravo Squad, eh? Has a nice ring to it. _Oh-Nine smiled inwardly to himself. But that faded as the door opened another moment later.

A dark- though graying- haired man stood in the doorway, a permanent scowl across his face. The man had gold eyes, though there was a dark, unforgiving tint to them too. He wore a black suit that was easily recognized to be Mandalorian, two blasters hanging from the belt. He eyed the squad as General Ti and the advisor moved aside. He walked around them, studying them. As his slow walk around them ended, he stopped before the General and the soldier.

"This is Bravo Squad?" His voice was cold, but to Oh-Nine it sounded like it could be the man's normal tone of voice.

"Yes." The Togruta Master answered calmly.

"They're young."

"They're cadets, Vau."

"They know nothing of pain or war." He said thoughtfully.

"With all due respect, sir, we hear a thing or two now and then." Oh-Nine spoke up.

"Squad Leader Ar-See-One-One-Oh-Nine." Walon Vau turned to face him, walking towards him intimidatingly. "Introduce me to your squad."

"This is Ar-See-One-One-Two-Seven." He gestured to the cadet beside him. "On his left is Ar-See-One-One-Seven-Six, and next to him is Ar-See-One-One-Eight-Three."

"Bravos, have any of you by chance actually _seen _the effects of war?" Vau asked.

When none of his fellow squad members answered, Oh-Nine shook his head. "No, sir."

"Well, I have. War is cold and brutal." He told them, beginning to pace before the boys. The advisor and General had left the room. "Once, a small unit of troopers came back against orders. We tried to contact their commander, but you know why we couldn't? Their commander was unconscious and being dragged between them. His skin was slate blue. He'd been poisoned."

"Slate blue, sir?" Seven-Six asked, clearly puzzled.

"Slate blue." The Mandalorian nodded.

"And what does that look like, sir?" Eight-Three questioned, clearly curious.

"Slate blue is the shade of a trooper's face when he's not getting the oxygen he needs." Vau explained. "For example, let's take Seven-Six here."

The man grabbed the cadet by the neck and lifted him up, pinning him against the wall. Choking sounds emerged from Seven-Six as he kicked at the larger man and pulled at the hands gripping his neck. The other cadets stood there in shock, uncertain of what to do. Oh-Nine felt a hatred against this man brewing inside him as he saw his brother's face begin to turn a shade of bluish-gray; slate blue. He couldn't take it.

"Get off of him!" He shouted, snapping to action. He barged into the Mandalorian's side, shoving him to the ground. He caught Seven-Six as he collapsed, Sunnyand Eight-Three racing to help.

The door slid open, the advisor and General Ti racing in. They both looked shocked to see Vau on the ground and the cadets crowding around their brother as he held his neck, gasping.

"What happened here?" Ti demanded.

"Well, Slate and Eight-Three here wanted to know what slate blue looked like." Vau answered, a thin layer of sarcasm in his tone.

"His name isn't Slate!" Oh-Nine roared, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Well, look at you. You're a fighter." The Mandalorian seemed faintly amused as he got to his feet. "Every squad needs at least one of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eight-Three asked bitterly. "Aren't we all fighters? Fighting wars is what we're bred for."

"Most of them don't actually fight, but more like resign themselves to their fate." He told them. "Mars actually seems to see that there's actually hope in this war."

"Mars?" Oh-Nine's brow furrowed. Then it clicked. They'd studied the planets of another galaxy once, and that was the name of one of the planets; desert red colored. "Why'd you name me after a planet?"

A harsh sounding laugh came from deep within Vau's throat. "Not after the planet, after a God of war."

"Then why'd you name me after a God of war?" He asked.

"Because you're not just some number." He told him. "None of you are. I don't care what they say, but you're not going to be Oh-Nine, Two-Seven, Seven-Six, and Eight-Three anymore. By the time you leave me and join the fight, you'll have true names. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Mars nodded in understanding. He turned and walked over to Seven-Six. He held out a hand. "Let me help you out there, brother."

He took the hand and let him pull him up. "Thanks...Mars."

"Anything for a brother, Slate." He gave a small smile to him.

"Bravo Squad, fall in!" Vau ordered.

Mars took his place as squad leader, Sunny beside him, then Slate, and lastly the still-to-be-named Eight-Three. Their heads were held high, higher than before Vau had come in. They'd learned more important things in the past five minutes than through their whole training to this day. What'd they learn? That being different was okay on a planet of clones and that they weren't just some number.

*X*

"Hey, boys?" The voice came from the bunk beneath Mars.

"Yeah, Eight-Three?" Sunny responded from another bunk nearby.

"I spent all day thinking about what Vau said, about names." Eight-Three told them. "I think I know what I want to be called."

"And what's that?" Slate asked, obviously curious.

"I think I'm going to go by Jem for now on." He said.

"Jem?" Mars repeated.

"Yeah. It's got a nice ring to it."

_Jem. Jem. Jem. I guess it does._

"Nice choice." Slate complimented.

"Yeah, sounds great for one of us who actually chose our own name." Sunny agreed.

"Quit the chatter and get some rest, boys." Mars ordered quietly, tapping the button for his bunk to retract.

As he was plunged into blackness, Oh-Nine knew that the lives of he and his brothers were going to change under Vau's command. The next year and a half was going to be _very _interesting.


	2. The Test

"Did you hear about what happened on Felucia?" Slate asked Mars as he woke him up.

The war had started just about a year and a half ago, as did Bravo Squad's training under Walon Vau. The Mandalorian often told them stories of what was currently going on in the battlefields, or they heard through other troopers. The boys of Bravo Squad had nearly completed their training. As a matter of fact, this was to be the day of their final test before being shipped off to their first mission. The squad was both nervous and excited for this, as it was the day to see if their hard training had actually paid off.

"No, I was sleeping." Mars answered Seven-Six, yawning. "Where are Jem and Sunny?"

"Right here, Oh-Nine." A voice responded from behind the other clone. "Get out of his face, Slate."

The young to-be trooper moved out of the way. "Sorry."

"You can tell me about Felucia when we go eat in a minute." Oh-Nine told his brother, giving a small smile to show that he forgave him. He climbed down the ladder from his bunk and reached back up to tap the retract button. It slid back inside the wall. Sunny leant against another wall, offering a smile of greeting. Jem sat on his own bunk, arms crossed, as he waited. Slate stood beside him as well. Their squad leader looked at them amusedly. "Bravos, who's hungry?"

*X*

"So, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, his padawan, Commander Cody, and Captain Rex went to Felucia. Apparently the clankers there killed most of the other clones. Apparently the padawan took a trio of vehicles with her on a patrol. The others dominated the droids and had them pinned, but-" Slate was cut off.

"-But reinforcements arrived." Jem guessed, taking a bite of something from his tray.

"Hey, I'm telling the story!" Seven-Six frowned before continuing. "The patrol was too far away to help, so they sent in another Jedi by the name of Plo Koon, or something like that. He and his men- the Wolf Pack- weren't even on the planet. So they had to fight through a blockade. They got through and landed the gunships. They got in them, but they were still missing the padawan. They had to land in front of her to keep her from staying to shoot down the rest of the droids!" He laughed, before becoming somber. "She and her gunner boarded the ship, but the men in the other vehicles that had been with her were killed. We lost the battle from what I heard. Also heard that they're keeping that padawan strictly reading Jedi archives for awhile."

"Good." Mars growled as he finished eating. "She got some men killed! I'm telling you, some of these Jedi are reckless."

"Yeah." Jem agreed, swallowing a sip of water.

"But what about the one that saved the rest; General Plo Koon?" Sunny asked. "He saved some of the best men that the Republic has! Imagine if Captain Rex got killed!"

"He said _some_ Jedi, not all Jedi." Slate interjected through a mouthful of food. "But you know what's worse? They wiped out the medical center over the planet."

"You're joking?" Eight-Three frowned.

"Not one bit." The other clone shook his head.

"You know how much they put into those things?" Mars asked, angered slightly.

Sunny got up and began to collect their trays. He dumped them in a trash bin nearby and began to head towards the return area. "A lot." He answered.

"More than we'll ever know." Jem sighed.

"You know what? When I get my armor, I'm gonna paint it blue." Slate declared.

Jem snorted. "Slate blue?"

"No." Seven-Six shook his head. "Darker, like the Five-Oh-First."

"Why do you want to look like the Five-Oh-First?" Oh-Nine asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"To show that I- we're better than they are." Slate answered. "We could've kept Felucia under the Republic's control, but they didn't send us. They didn't think we were ready."

During friendly competition, it's fine to say that you're better than someone else. But when you despise them and say it when they did the best they could, that's something else; and it's one of the things that angers Mars. "They did the best they could! Look, _our _training isn't complete yet! We shouldn't compare to whole battalions, especially when we're still in training! Yes, we're supposed to be better than them, but we aren't supposed to brag about it. Yes, we're commandos and they're regs, but we don't need to act better, even if we are. As your squad leader, I order you to watch your mouth, Seven-Six."

The Bravos had learned long ago that if they were called by their number instead of their name, Oh-Nine was either enraged with or embarrassed by his squad. Usually both.

Slate looked away and swallowed guiltily. "Yes, sir, Squad Leader."

"What happened here?" Sunny asked, having seen the solemn expressions upon approaching his squad.

"Seven-Six was bragging again." Jem simply told him.

"Ah, so nothing new?" Two-Seven asked, clearly disappointed.

"Nope." Eight-Three shook his head.

"Bravos, let's go get armored up and meet Vau by the training room." Mars ordered, standing up. "It's time to complete our training."

*X*

Oh-Nine glanced at his helmet, spinning it around on his hand.

"Mars?" He glanced up at Slate. "Do you think we'll pass?"

"No." Jem answered for him.

"Of course we'll pass!" Sunny argued. "We're commandos, we can do anything!"

Mars gave him a warning glare and turned back to Seven-Six. "Vau trained us the best he could. Mandalorians are pretty strategic and everything, and having learned from one, we should be the same." He paused, thinking for a moment. "I'm confident in all three of you. Slate, you're an excellent slicer. Sunny, your mind is always on finding ways to blow things up- good thing you're our explosives specialist. Jem, you are the sniper. Just remember what you're best at, brothers, and do just that. We _will _pass. I promise you all that much." He put on his helmet. "This isn't just for us, but for Vau."

Sunny grinned. "I like the sound of that."

Jem and Slate nodded in agreement.

"Bravo Squad!" Oh-Nine turned towards them. "Let's show them what we've got."

"Sir, yes, sir!" The other three commandos chanted together, putting on their own helmets.

*X*

"Bravo Squad, as you are aware, this is your final test." Vau stood before the four clones. "This is going to test everything you learned- from basic training and what I taught you. If you really learned anything, you'll show it today. Remember, the droids' blasters are set to kill. Don't get shot or you'll either die or slow down the whole squad. Use your resources wisely." He paused for effect. "Are you ready, Bravo Squad?"

"Yes, sir!" The boys shouted.

"We'll see." He nodded at the, before turning to his comm link. "General Ti, is the arena ready?"

"Yes, Vau, the arena is ready. The droids are set to start firing five seconds after Bravo Squad enters." The Jedi's voice came back.

"Good. I'm sending them in." He replied. He turned back to the clones one last time. "Remember everything I taught you. Good luck out there, Bravos."

"See you on the other side, sir." Sunny told him, good-naturedly.

A small, fatherly smile tugged at the corners of Vau's lips. "I'm trusting the four of you not to die."

"If they die, I'll kill them for you." Jem promised mockingly.

"Quit the chatter, Eight-Three." Mars ordered. "Boys, let's take out some clankers."

The door before them slid open. Oh-Nine cocked his gun and raced in, the other three behind him. The arena was a jungle, similar to Kashyyyk. After a very short delay, the droids opened fire. The squad fired back, droids clattering to the ground. They were quickly replaced by more.

A bullet whizzed past Mars' head and he instinctively ducked. He heard the concentration of his brothers and felt the tension in the air. He knew that they needed to make a path through the droids, so he pulled out a thermal detonator, triggered it, and threw it towards the droids. The grenade exploded and flaming bits of metal flew every which way. He pointed through the middle of the droids with two fingers and was satisfied his message had been received by the other three when he heard a prompt,"Yes, sir."

He waved the other three before him, taking up the rear. He heard a cracking noise, but he didn't register what it was until he saw the tree falling between him and Slate. It was thick trunked and he knew that he wouldn't be able to clear it after it had hit the ground. He tried to quicken his pace, but he couldn't because of roots tripping his heels. The tree hit hard, a mere few centimeters before his face. He pulled back eyes wide. He'd been trapped with many of the droids. Turning his back to the trunk, he opened fire on the clankers.

"Mars!" He heard one of the others shout.

"I can't climb over it!" He called back, keeping his attention on taking out the droids. "I'll find another way around!"

"No, wait! Jem's gonna demo it!"

"WHAT?!" Mars shouted in disbelief. "That's gonna get me killed!"

He turned back towards the fallen tree just in time to hear a faint beep. The loud sound of an explosion rang out and the orange before him burned him eyes. The force of the bomb's explosion sent him flying backwards, scathing parts of him armor black. His head slammed into the ground and he grunted. His ears rang. His eyes had closed briefly and he opened them again, looking at the fiery destruction. Burning droid and tree debris laid all around him and he wondered vaguely how he was still alive. He forced himself to get up, his limbs groaning in protest. He grabbed his DC-17m blaster and began firing again, backing through the new opening towards his brothers.

"You glad he blew it up now?" Slate asked mockingly.

"Stay focused on taking out the clankers, Seven-Six!" Oh-Nine snapped.

The young clones stopped talking, their fire focusing on the droids before them. So far, all four of them were in relatively good condition so far. Slowly the droids began to force the clones back- more like forward, in the needed direction.

"Why don't we just turn and run?" Sunny asked over the gunfire.

"Because they'd shoot us!" Jem growled.

A cry of pain pierced the air and Mars looked to see Slate fall to the group, an obvious bullet wound straight through his shoulder. He didn't move; either unconscious, dead, or playing dead. The droids continued to advance. The squad leader would had liked to switch to his anti armor attachment, but he knew he'd risk killing Seven-Six for good if he did. And one of the biggest rules was to never leave a squad member behind. The injured clone got swallowed up in the swarms of droids.

"Squad, clear a path to Slate! Now!" Oh-Nine shouted over the gunfire. He let out a scream as one of the Super Battle Droids hit him hard and catapulted him into the side of a tree. It shot into his left thigh and he cried out again, leaning back against the tree. As if to reassure Sunny and Jem that he's okay, he calls,"Get to Slate!"

"Yes, sir." Jem responds, taking the lead as he and Two-Seven start clearing a path to their fallen brother.

Mars watched them as they complete their orders successfully. Sunny dragged Slate back, while Jem covered him. Two-Seven pulled a bacta machine, using it on the incapitated Seven-Six. Within moments, the other soldier was getting back to his feet, reloading a clip for his DC-17m. He quickly helped the squad leader to his feet, though the latter stumbled on his injured leg, gasping.

"You alright, Bravo Lead?" Jem asked, glancing back as he fired at the droids.

"Fine." He hissed in pain, reloading his blaster. "Keep firing on those droids. Throw some thermal detonators if you can."

"Yes, sir!" Slate replied, following the order immediately.

Sunny threw a thermal detonator into the middle of the droids. Through the rows of them, Mars could see the explosion. Apparently there weren't as many droids left as he'd though. He was instantly relieved a little.

The clones used the trees to duck behind for cover as the battle raged on. After that, the droids began to fall much more quickly. Within another ten or so minutes, the last droid had been shot down. The squad pulled to one side of the forest, knowing the path likely to be a trap. They continued alongside it, a feel layers of trees deep. Oh-Nine couldn't keep from limping, his leg refused to work right, the pain pulsing through it constantly.

They stopped at the edge of the trees, near a new clearing. Mars could see quite a few droids, though not nearly as much as before, guarding the area. He glanced around and saw the staff they had to retrieve, high up in a tree. The top of it shown a red light, marking that it had yet to be grabbed.

"Do you see it?" Sunny asked.

"Yeah." Oh-Nine answered. "It's up a tree. Squad, we have some climbing to do after we take down those clankers."

"Wait, wait, wait." Slate spoke up. "What if you and Jem climb, while Sunny and I take down the clankers?"

"Yeah, they _definitely _won't shoot us." Jem grumbled sarcastically.

"I agree with Jem. It's not safe." Mars took a minute to think. "But, we're going to have to do it. We spent far too long taking out the first of the droids."

"You can't be serious!" Eight-Three looked at him, in clear disbelief.

"I am." He responded. "When I say go, we go. Sunny, Slate, you boys'll go out first to draw their fire. We'll come out right behind you and head for the tree."

"Don't you think there'll be clankers up there, sir?" Sunny asked.

"It's possible, but doubt it." Oh-Nine responded, scanning the tree briefly for signs of movement. "I don't see any." He was silent for a moment. "Get ready, boys."

Both he and Jem strapped their DC-17m blasters to their backs, making sure their hands were free for climbing the tree. Sunny and Slate quickly checked the ammo on theirs. None of the boys said anything, waiting for their leader's next command. A droid passed by the edge of the trees and they all froze, waiting for it to pass. It did.

"Go!" Mars whispered loudly.

Sunny and Slate raced out into the clearing, opening fire on the droids immediately, who returned it. The squad leader nodded to Eight-Three and they raced out after them, charging towards the tree. They successfully avoided getting shot along the way. They reached the tree and Mars immediately started climbing it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jem climbing past him. His brother was a natural at climbing. Then again, his injured leg didn't help. Maybe he should've sent Sunny or Slate in his place. _Too late now._

Jem was well above Mars within the first few seconds of climbing the tall Kashyyk tree. For a long moment, he was convinced that the plan would work without difficulty. Mistake. A scream came from above him and he glanced up sharply, seeing his brother falling back towards him, a droid standing up by the staff. Sunny was right. Jem fell past him, speed growing.

"JEM!" He shouted.

He watched the other clone slam into the ground with such force that dust flew from under the grass. Mars was torn between continuing and going back to check on him. It took him a moment to remember that Sunny and Slate were down there and could help him. He forced himself to keep climbing, though he worried for Jem.

He turned his mind to wondering how to take care of the droid from this angle. It had the high ground, giving it the advantage- clearly, by what had happened to Eight-Three. He'd have to climb over it and drop down. He'd have the element of surprise on his side. He knew without a doubt that it was the only way.

The gunfire slowly grew fainter as Oh-Nine climbed higher. He looked up. He was so close! His body ached in protest at every movement, and he ejected the wrist knives on his armor, using them to help him keep a strong grip. He got a foothold on a small branch and paused to catch his breath. Sweat coated his face and the back of his neck, threatening to spill into his eyes. He took a moment to go over his plan. The only flaws were his injured leg and the droid suspecting it and pushing him off; none of which he could do anything about.

Praying to himself, he resumed his climb. He made it to the small hole in the trunk in which the staff and droid were. He moved to the left so the droid wouldn't see him, climbing up around the side of it. He side climbed right, positioning himself over the opening. He retracted the knives back into the armor and prepared to drop. One wrong move and he'd end up lying next to or on top of Jem, down on the ground.

"For Jem." He whispered sharply to himself.

He released, letting himself drop down. He quickly snapped his hands shut on the edge and swung himself into the tree's cavity. He landed crouching and sprang at the droid, catching it off-guard. He ejected the knife on his right wrist and stabbed the machine until it fell motionless. Retracting the knife, he stood up to the staff. He grabbed it and pulled it free, victory flowing through him as the red light turned to green. He stepped up to the edge and held the staff in his right arm.

Too overcome by pride, Mars didn't notice the droid getting up. A couple of gunshots rang out and a sharp pain pierced his back. He cried out, falling forward over the edge, staff tightly in his grasp. He could hear the gunfire below getting louder and the _woosh _of air in his ears. Another quick, brief moment of pain and everything went black. The last thing he heard before he passed out was his brothers shouting his name.

*X*

"Hey, hey, Mars! You okay?" Sunny was the first thing he saw when they revived him.

Oh-Nine's vision was blurred. His brother's yelling made his head hurt. His leg and back hurt too. In fact, he hurt all over- but those few spots were the most excruciating. He attempted to get up, but slumped down onto his stomach instead, groaning painfully.

"Bacta…" He gasped, in too much pain to move again or say anything more.

"Sorry, Bravo Lead." Two-Seven's voice was apologetic. "We used the rest of it up making sure Eight-Three was okay."

"Jem…" Mars murmured, remembering watching his brother fall.

"He's okay, don't worry about him." Sunny assured him. "Slate's alright too. He's holding onto the staff for you."

"Help me up." He demanded in the strongest voice he could muster.

"Sir, I don't think that's a good-"

"-Now, Sunny." He growled, his voice wavering again. "That's an order."

"Yes, sir." Two-Seven responded. "This is gonna hurt."

He grabbed Oh-Nine's arm and put it around his neck, helping the other clone to get his legs underneath him. He assisted him to stand up and led him towards the others. Mars could see the shapes of Slate and Jem slowly begin to form and become clearer as they moved. They reached the two boys a few moments later.

"Are you alright?" Slate asked him.

"The fall's not fun." He answered weakly.

Jem agreed. "You can say that again."

"Bravos, let's head back." Mars ordered, voice unsteady. "Remember to keep a look out for any clankers on the way. If anyone gets incapitated, we have no way of reviving you until we get out."

"If anyone gets incapitated, it'll be either you, me, or Slate, sir." Jem pointed out. "Two-Seven's got it easy."

He rolled his eyes beneath his helmet. "Let's move out, boys."

"Yes, sir!" Jem and Slate responded.

The squad started heading towards the way they'd entered the arena, Slate holding the staff- the _key_\- to the exit. Jem took the lead, his blaster ready to fire upon any droids. Sunny and Mars made up the read of the group. A realistic burning smell tinted the air where the digitally generated fallen tree had been. The ground was charred black as well.

They reached the exit point within fifteen minutes. Slate inserted the staff into the slot, twisting it like a key. The door slid open. The tension between the brothers seemed to evaporate as they realized that they were safe once again.

Two figures awaited them on the other side.

"Well done!" General Ti smiled at them.

"Did we pass?" Slate asked hopefully.

"We'll tell you the result, but only after your squad leader gets medical attention." Vau answered. "Looks like he might need to be in a bacta tank for awhile."

Oh-Nine felt the eyes of the others on him, but he was too weary to say or do anything. The only movement -which the others couldn't see- was his eyes flicking around to glance at the Jedi, Vau, and his squad. _Yes, some bacta would be nice, sir. Practically dying on my feet over here._

"Mars?" Sunny gave him a light shake.

Pain coursed through the latter's body and he groaned weakly. He could've sworn he had more strength a couple of minutes ago. Vau took a couple paces forward, now right in front of him. The usually strict man had a tone of gentleness radiating off of him. He carefully took off the clone's helmet. Mars' wavering eyes met the gaze of his superior. The man had a look of uncharacteristic concern in his eyes as he gazed at him.

"Mars? You alright, son?" Vau asked.

"Yes, sir." It came out as a whisper, laced with exhaustion and pain.

He gave a thoughtful nod. "Two-Seven, take him to the medical wing."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

*X*

Oh-Nine opened his eyes some hours later. The excruciating pain had vanished. He was somewhat shocked, having never been in a bacta tank before. He gazed through the glass of the tank and at his brothers, who sat on benches, waiting. He kicked his legs, surfacing at the top of the tank. He removed the mask covering his nose and mouth, as his brothers looked up at him.

"Mars!" Sunny exclaimed, a grin alighting his face.

"Bravos." He gave a fond smile back.

"You son of a bounty hunter." Jem shook his head, his lips curled upwards. "You survived the highest fall I've ever seen without and bacta for twenty minutes. Hella lot stronger than I am. If they hadn't used up the rest of it on me, I would've died for sure."

"Some of those clankers certainly are a lot smarter than they look, eh?" Mars replied, pulling himself over the lip of the bacta tank and dropping to the floor.

"Glad I stayed on the ground." Slate spoke up.

"What? You afraid of heights now?" Jem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am _now_." He joked.

Oh-Nine put on his red cadet uniform, stretching his muscles. "It's so good to not hurt."

"I can imagine so." Sunny agreed.

Without warning, the door to the room slid open. Vau entered, looking as unemotional as he ever had. General Ti wasn't with him. The squad looked up at him hopefully.

"Bravo Squad." He addressed them all. "Well done out there today. Because of Slate's ingenious plan, you _passed_."


End file.
